Post MI:2 Nyah
by Freelance Muse
Summary: My friend FinalActs who also uses this site wrote Post MI:2, and so I wrote one as a complement to it. You should check hers out too. A shocking discovery for Nyah is revealed from her POV just weeks after the movie takes place.


I remarked in the summary that my friend Sendai made a story(Post MI:2) and I wrote this one to go along with it so here it is! Insert disclaimer of non-ownership here.

**(Pre-) Post MI2: Nyah**

"Ethan?" I was feeling much better then. My body was stabilizing, and in the final stages of doing so. Chimera was a fantastic illness. Each breath, each step I took hadmade me feel weaker. Weaker. Until weak didn't mean anything anymore. But that was over thanks to Bellerophon. And Ethan. "Ethan, wake up," I was much less groggy than he, I had been awake for a few minutes thinking about the past month. I elbowed him in the ribs, "Why did you tell me to stay with Sean?"

"Mnnf?" He turned over and looked at me, though his eyes were more closed than open. He could be quite the sound sleeper. That or he faked it. He was probably faking. Spies.

I sat up on my elbows and looked at him, I am sure the look told him that I was serious, and that I knew he was more awake than he let on.

Despite my gravity, he smiled that huge toothsome melting smile and I couldn't help but smile back. His voice did have that morning fog in it when he spoke, "I didn't want you to go in there, Nyah." He was serious when he spoke, and the simple-minded guilt he felt over the issue was plain on his face. _How can he seem so open and unguarded given his profession?_

"No, not that, I mean when you came later. The day after the horse race. You came all that way, it didn't make any sense."

Ethan's face went profoundly thoughtful. It was a matter of a sharpening in his eyes, a set to his jaw, and a slight narrowing of his lips. This transformation took place in a second. "That's how he knew," he said, nearly muttering. He gave me a considering look which might have terrified me since his muscles tensed perceptibly under the linens. The reality finally dawned over my horizon of confusion as he said, "I never set foot on Sean's island. He must have figured… took a really lucky guess."

I involuntarily clutched the blankets and pulled them more closely around myself. "Oh." I sank back into the down. It all came together, like the tumblers of a lock clicking in place. Opening a door to the recent past.

I'd run back inside, didn't see anyone else lurking about, so I went to Sean's room, took off my shoes and jeans, and lay down. I was thinking for a long time, wondering what had changed since the day before when Ethan had said he wanted me out of there, that he wanted me away from Sean, and did a poor job of hiding his concern. _Does Sean have some plan they want me to overhear? Do anything he says? What the bloody hell does he think I've been doing? Does he realize how unstable Sean is? He already was before, but since he killed all of those people in the airplane, his only comfort is the money. And me. _I felt the strangest thing then, knowing that he felt so gratified, so justified because I was with him again. He kept talking about buying a castle in Scotland or Ireland these past few weeks. He was completely in love with me. "I'm not going to let you go this time, Nyah." And I was supposed to watch him build his dreams on the certainty of the money that he'd make. On the certainty that I'd be by his side. Because I don't have a conscience, right. I actually felt sorry for him by the time he came to bed.

He came into the room and was still for a long time. I pretended to be sleeping. How could I keep lying when I was so frightened. 'I'm not going to let you go this time, Nyah.' Had he actually said that? The air seemed so cold. I wasn't sure if he had actually made that statement or if it was just the look in his eyes when he had me try on that gown. Then it seemed everything was in motion, but he was just crossing the room, rapidly. I had to fight myself to stay still. Finally, when he got into bed, I feigned a sleeper's movements, and rolled away, to the far edge of the bed. But he bounded in, heedless of where I was, and I still fancied until then that he just didn't know where exactly I was. I sometimes forget that these spies are superhuman, and supernaturally aware, at least as much as I am. Instinct told me to flee, but I did not as he sidled up to me, and quickly. He put his arm over me, and pinned my free arm to my side. Then he whispered hoarsely, "Nyah, sweetie, are you awake?"

If I hadn't been, I would have been then, due to his volume when he spoke. I still said nothing. Pretending to sleep. He came even closer, like a whir of wind, and then his cold skin was next to mine. I acted as much as I could like I was sleeping, though I was sure my breathing betrayed me, it was not quite deep enough for a sleeper's. But he didn't say anything else. He just smelled of whiskey and groped me. His hands were unshy, entitled, everywhere. It was a strange boldness that was unusual for him, but I figured it was because he had been drinking.

Then he was in me. It was sudden, and without warning, and my ruse was certainly over then, because I gasped as the first penetration hit home, a sound I hope I never make again. He was only encouraged by the sound, and pumped at me hard, again, and again, and again, and again, and again. He was like a man, no—he was a man possessed, as he grabbed me up to my hands and knees and drove it in, to the hilt. Eternities passed where I would have had time to think, if thinking was within the realm of possibility. Beyond the reaches of my rational mind he drove me to unadulterated pleasure, boundless torment, to place there was only shame for me, and shamelessness for him. At one point, I managed reemerge into reality enough to be shocked at his brutalization of my body. "Sean!"

"Yes, Nyah?" He asked calmly as he continued working my body, hands clenching my hair, or my breasts. I didn't really have anything to say in response, so he spoke, at length. "Do you love me Nyah?"

I never answered, but I did cry then, though I am not sure if he ever knew that. I doubt he did. He had the stamina of a man trained by the CIA to be a one man battalion, and it was fueled by something else too, something I thought then to be his borderline adoration of me. Eventually, I fell down, completely exhausted. He must have come several times, but not until he was done taking his pleasure with me did I think, coming back from that faraway place, that I had felt each one of his explosions… and had not thought at the time of the repercussions. There were too many other things going on. When he'd finished his work he pulled me close to him and sobbed. I stroked his hair, his thick, soft hair, out of habit. But I never said a word.

The next day, Ethan's team found me as he physically dueled Sean to the death. Two weeks later I was overdue. Reason told me it had to be Sean's, since Ethan was nothing but careful.

_"I never set foot on Sean's Island."_

But because of you, I did. I have to deliver the child without a father, and without Ethan. I knew he'd want to undergo some effort at noblesse and valiance. So, I'd leave him. But it would take several months yet for me to show.

Sean's child would be raised in wealth. Nearly anonymous wealth in a boarding school where he'd make friends and live in the real world, the one his real parents did not inhabit. I felt too much for Sean. It had been so much easier when I just broke up with him. I could always go back if I'd wanted. Now he was dead. A dead villain. And I feel too much for him to keep the last vestige of him from the world.


End file.
